Tag: poetry

I came across this poem on an Italian website about nutrition and I immediately fell in love with it.“Change is the only constant” as Albert Einstein says.Every moment is different.Every moment you live is unique and therefore different, irrepetible.Like the river whose water never touches the same stone twice – Panta Rhei.Diversity and plurality are what define this infinite moment of life.Reading, travelling, music, dreams are the aliments of life.Read and live.Listen to music. Feel its vibration and live it.Dream and live your dream.Travel and see with your eyes, with your heart, with your spirit all the colours of life.Change your routine and give your life a new sensation.The sensation of rebirth.Be reborn and accept the change. The change of the moment. The change of your ‘self’.You are always the same and you are always different since every moment, every instant, every breath is different.You change with the flow of life.

Poetic Lyric

You start dying slowly

You start dying slowlyif you do not travel,if you do not read,If you do not listen to the sounds of life,If you do not appreciate yourself.

You start dying slowlyWhen you kill your self-esteem;When you do not let others help you.

You start dying slowlyIf you become a slave of your habits,Walking everyday on the same paths…If you do not change your routine,If you do not wear different coloursOr you do not speak to those you don’t know.

You start dying slowlyIf you do not change your life when you are not satisfied with your job, or with your love,If you do not risk what is safe for the uncertain,If you do not go after a dream,If you do not allow yourself,At least once in your lifetime,To run away from sensible advice…

Sometimes when I see how controlled we are by everything – by the food industry, by governments, schools, universities, etc – I just feel like writing down some lyrics.
I got lots to say.
NO pray.
NO grey.

No condition
No ambition
Only ignition!

I invite humanity to listen up to the message
with no reaction.
I invite humanity to “speak it up”
with no hesitation.
I invite humanity to clear it up and not fill it up
with shit.
It’s time to wake up and drop your illusionist.
Resist and insist!
I got lots to say…
I testify…

Humanity!
Listen up or you’ll not follow up
neither will you get up
Don’t be fed up or you’ll fuck it up!
I testify what you falsify!
And now glorify what I purify.
In a world full of trouble
you struggle and mumble.
I say…
Say a word and be a nerd
Feel it. Don’t deem it. But clean it.
You squeezin’ shit and even puttin’ on the lid
as if what you say got a way
you wanna keep it and feed it
you wanna leak it
but I am gonna beat it!

Stand up for what you say
or you’ll have to pay
your human blood!
Stand up from the mud!

You respond superficially
using sounds which you deem mounts
but they don’t count cuz they lack ground
and can’t be found.

Respondin’ from an irresolute world
contaminated and “disilluminated”.
Investigated but too hallucinated
to be rejuvenated
even when lubricated shit is slippin’ away
from the motor way.

Until you realize that
this is paradise
you won’t fantasize rejecting everyone’s trial
to harmonize.
Listen up. This is a message passin’ via no passage
Can you manage?
It’ll hit and not fit
cuz there ain’t no grid in the mid
eliminate the shit!
It’ll “shook” you and hook you.
But won’t book you.
Unless you manifest that it took you.

First you gotta listen up
and abandon all ya crap
accumulated and reamalgamated
from the time you spit in your own face
fuckin’ up with the entire grace
of the human race!

This is an innocent voice commin’ from the world
called choice
need to be more moist – or it’ ll crash
and the stars will flash your damn cash
and then, what will you smash?

You’re searchin’ resolution for no communal conclusion
in a material world, self-made growin’ fade
producin’ infection without satisfaction
cuz of ya misconception of fake-ass-action of
a system filled with mal – jurisdiction
transmogrified into fiction!

Brutal situation of manipulation can be stopped by
manifestation of gratification.
Ingratiation is part of your exploration
Make it an affirmation or you’ll follow a condemnation
of reclusive and abusive indignation.
Demonstrate your royalty and stop ya fatality
regain ya ability from post trauma distorted immobility
gettin’ a degree and payin’ an insane mental fee
is mortification of the human nation.
Cruel manifestation of bestial incarnation
created by spurious mal-information.

I say…
Look at the act of glorious inter-act
resurrect and intersect!
make it a fact!
You are the reference
and that’s a credence
and that’ll push you above the highest fence.
Until you touch the sky
and see any mystify.

This poem is dedicated to all the children.
We were all born illuminated.
We were all born knowing.
Knowing is not sufficient for parents.
For them, knowing needs to be transmogrified into knowledge – concepts, doctrines, religions, education, morals, rules etc.
Pay attention: This knowledge is selected. It separates. The parents select according to their own schemes and vision of the world. The statement “I am Buddhist” separates you from all the other realities. You are labelling yourself. One label. How poor. And yes, even though in they eyes of others I follow Islam, I am far away from giving any definition to what I follow and how I follow it. It is far too narrow to say I follow Islam. For me, there is only one religion – LOVE and living the life of a Muslimah happens to be that religion for me which, however, we refer to as Islam today. I stop here, since this is a vast topic and I would get side tracked. I was talking about the illuminated child….The illuminated child starts following what has been imposed to her since she got no other choice but to pursue her parents path. That seem to be her destiny. While following she is naturally losing her “art of knowing”. It gets corrupted. Colonized by man made concepts of salvation. All these concepts are now part of the child.The child, fully immersed into a world scientifically created by the mind, is now starting to struggle between existence – namely who he is and where he came from (love) and the world, society, people. A clash between nature and science happens. While struggling the child is more and more loosing herself. She is distracted by all the other things surrounding her now and gets electrocuted by her parents’ energy which is the result of an accumulation of feelings and emotions which they have collected and installed in their spirit throughout their lives. The child becomes a product of her parents’ past. The child is suffering. The child is experiencing a trauma – a disorder in his consciousness. The child shifts from Homo Illuminus to Homo Sapience. When he becomes a parent, he too will play the same “child-parent’ game her parents played. The “child-parent” role is the illusion of people through which they excuse their “love” for their child. It is a corrupted love. Not pure love. Pure love leaves the child free to be, to discover herself. “We love you and we are only worried. We only want your best.” say the parents. What do they really want? Their child’s best or their best? If they want their child’s best why do they claim they “want”? How can they want something for someone else? Giving guidelines, educating them, giving them a religion – a label, a name, and identity – without even asking her? I feel like being in a factory where the workers put a stamp on each piece of chocolate, for instance, labelling it “milka” while eradicating the wholeness and essence of the CHOCOLATE – the spirit of it. People will not eat chocolate. They will eat Milka. Great! Chocolate becomes secondary. That’s what happens to the child as well. Her spirit becomes secondary if not even last. What becomes visible is the name, religion, nationality, eduction later etc. The child becomes labelled. His spirit disappears. And the fight starts. The fight for the search for a lost self! I define myself a very lucky person. My parents have always left me free. They have given me so much love. Of course parents are parents and they will always be parents. They advice you and their advice is usually based on their own experience. My parents always advised me, but they have never forced me to follow their advice. They have always let me free. They have watched me falling and rising again, with my own hands. In this poem I am not referring to my parents. I am specifically referring to those parents who are usually stuck in their culture and follow a linear way of raising their children – where concepts like “right” and “wrong” define the child’s consciousness. I do not need to tell my child that fire is hot. He will sense it himself – way before touching the fire. He will approach the fire. He will get close to the fire until he feels the heat himself and he will then decide whether to touch it or not. I do not need to tell him in advance that fire is hot. This will rise his curiosity and boost his adrenaline. Once his adrenaline is at the pea and the excitement is so high, there is no space for consciousness. The child will jump into the fire without feeling the heat.illuminated child

These are tears of bleeding eyes
joyous eyes
friendly eyes.
These are tears of an illuminated child.

Illuminated child!
“Born homo sapience without any licence”.
Illuminated Child!
Homo Illuminus.
Living in a cottage,
Got no knowledge.
Illuminated child!
Unprotected and unaffected
Soon affected and not protected.
Illuminated child – knows.
They claim her protection for their own satisfaction.
Injection of their impure “love action”
is the detection.
Illuminated child is not seeking any protection
without any election!

Illumination is her own creation
disturbed by foreign penetration
which they call a sacrifice.
Illuminated child – knows.
She does not want any wicked advise.
Especially without them specialize.
Illuminated child – understands
they have become blind
she can help them find
their light, lost in vain – not impossible to gain.

Illuminated child – invites
to be “labelness” and accept our craziness.
Illuminated child
is the healing energy
of all the synergy.
Illuminated child
creates vibrational melody
while on her odyssey.

Illuminated child
uses her small innocent foot and
leaves the wood when she feels “no good”.
Illuminated child laughs!
Illuminated child rebels against their decisions
product of their own ambitions,
anchored in ancient traditions – ready for any exhibition!
No.
They got no right to possess, repress, access!
Their initiation is just the foundation
not their path towards their liberation of post coma frustration.

Illuminated child
feels the sorrow
of those who borrow
a life or a path which is easy to follow.
Illuminated child
came with her own beautiful energy.
She knows.
She flows
beautifully like a rose.“Emancipate yourself from mental slavery. No one but ourselves can free our minds.” – Bob Marley

While I was going through my teenager diaries and reading up current facebook updates by other teenage girls, I found myself in a moment where I felt like nothing has ever changed. Years have passed and I have remained the same. I am still a teenager. I am still that girl who on a rainy day was sitting in her room all day, listening to music while writing her diary or composing some lyrics. That girl whose parents thought she was weird because of her way of tuning in. I am still that girl who on a summer day would take her motorbike and drive up to the mountains, lie on the grass and feel the sun burning her skin, hear the sound of the trees moved by a slight summer breeze, observe the insects making love on the green grass. I am still that girl who when she falls in love, feels like she has lost herself in the vast ocean. I am still that girl who cries out of emotions and who does not hesitate to say ‘I love you’ when her heart beats so loud that everything – the moon, the sun and the stars – would stop to dance to its rhythm. I am still that girl who dances without a reason and who would stop everything to go on a long walk with her love and live every breath of that moment as if it was the last one. I am still that little girl whose eyes tell the story of her heart and soul. That girl who lives to love and loves to live. A simple girl who with a kiss …loves.

This is a poem inspired by my diary entries from when I was a teenager. I wrote these lyrics two years ago.I am still that girl who stays locked up in her room to write down her feelings on a piece of paper all night long…that girl who loses herself in an endless gaze.

One love

I want one love that makes you float in the air, one that makes your body shiver and gives you goosebumps every day, one that is capable of transforming you into music.I want one love that satisfies you, that makes you touch every bit of life, that makes you feel the sense of being.I want one that knows how to touch me and how to dance in me – how to make me cry out of happiness and how to make me appreciate the joy of life.I want one that makes me feel sad and drags me down, but that in the end comes back to me because he had actually never gone.I want one love full of smiles, words, hugs and kisses.One that makes your heart stop cuz of his beauty.I want one that can see through my soul – more than me.One that understands my heart. One that knows the meaning of my smile.I want one that laughs and cries with me. One that makes me feel alive.I want one love that is direct and not implicit, one that looks into my eyes when he sends me to hell and hugs me after because he misses my perfume.I want one love. Only one.

This extract is in line with my poetic life – where there is no room for defining anything since the moment you define it is the moment you kill it, no room for any system, religion, dogma, criteria, category, subject.
In line with this extract I’d like to claim that rationality leads to mind-constructs and pain since it is limited. Irrationality is immense and vast. If you are irrational you are living without defining or labelling things. You are just SEEING existence. Not things!!! And everything is flowing like a river. And you are immersed. Touching the ocean and feeling every wave of it. You cannot name or define this feeling. You can only embrace it. Feel it. Live it. And you can write poems about it to transcend the feeling, “to open the window” as Osho says.
Life is poetry.

Enjoy the extract:

“Christianity, Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Mohammedanism – these are only ideologies, dogmas, creeds; they are only cults. The true religion has no name, it cannot have any name. Buddha lived it, Jesus lived it – but remember, Jesus was not a Christian and Buddha was not a Buddhist, he had never heard of the word. The truly religious people have been simply religious, they have not been dogmatic. There are three hundred religions in the world – this is such an absurdity! If truth is one, how can there be three hundred religions? There is one science and three hundred religions?
If the science that is concerned with the objective truth is one, the religion is also one because it is concerned with the subjective truth, the other side of the truth. But that religion cannot have any name, it cannot have any ideology.
I teach only that religion. Hence if somebody asks you what my teaching is, in short, you will not be able to say – because I don’t teach principles, ideologies, dogmas, doctrines. I teach a religionless religion, I teach you the taste of it. I give you the method to become receptive to the divine. I don’t say anything about the divine, I simply tell you, “This is the window – open it and you will see the starry night.”
Now, that starry night is indefinable. Once you see it through the open window you will know it. Seeing is knowing – and seeing should be being too.
There should be no other belief.
So, my whole effort is existential, not intellectual at all. And the true religion is existential. It has always happened to only a few people and then disappears from the earth because the intellectuals immediately grab it and they start making beautiful ideologies out of it – neat and clean, logical. In that very effort they destroy its beauty. They create philosophies, and religion disappiers.
The pundit, the scholar, the theologian, is the enemy of religion.
So remember it: you are not getting initiated into a certain religion: you are getting initiated into just religiousness.
It is vast, immense, unbounded – it is like the whole sky.
Even the sky is not the limit, so open your wings without any fear. This whole existence belongs to us: this is our temple, this is our scripture. Less than that is man-made, manufactured by man. Where it is manufactured does not matter much – beware of manufactured religions so that you can know the true, which is not man-made. And it is available in the trees, in the mountains, in the rivers, in the stars – in you, in people that surround you – it is available.”

How can you teach religion without being religious?
How can you teach poetry without seeing the ocean, the trees, the flowers?
How can you teach language without speaking the language?
How can you be a mother without being a child?
How can you see the sky without flying?
How can you be without being?

In line with Osho’s extract – a divine expression of the soul.

Transcription of Akim Funk Buddha‘s lyric:

“I’m wonderin’ when the madness will end, cz it makes no sense.
dense times, stupid crimes.
you can go for yours and I can get mine.
everything was FINE before it was DEFINED.
following the leader – then you’ll always be behind.
are you blind? are YOU blind?”

Every time I watch Aladdin my heart stops. The picture I chose is the transmogrification of my lyrics into visual. One heart beat – One life.These lyrics are the voice of my soul during a simple walk on the road…

On a bright autumn day
as I walk on the road
I see the colours of the sky: red, orange, yellow…
and I live the smells of the street
intense, yet delicate – surreal.
Ethereal.
It’s a whole new world.

I feel the breeze. I see the colours
and I walk until I reach the horizon.
Then I touch the sky…
Infinity has begun.
It’s a whole new world
written in my soul
chanted by the birds.

As I walk
I can’t take my eyes off the sky…

I’d like to ask you…

Take my hand and come with me for a ride
fly with me to the sky
through the rainbow
along the stars.

Can you see the wonder?

a floral scent guiding us
into nowhere…
and we fly and touch everywhere.
It’s a whole new world.
Ethereal.